


falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush

by blackthorns



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, but also angst and bonding over trauma?, i wanted archie with a cat, post 5x08, this is like ten things in one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 15:35:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30074433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackthorns/pseuds/blackthorns
Summary: Being in love with your best friend is inconvenient, Betty thinks.
Relationships: Archie Andrews & Betty Cooper, Archie Andrews/Betty Cooper
Comments: 7
Kudos: 126





	falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote something that isn't an au?? shocking. honestly don't know what this is, it's got a little bit of everything and of course features betty and archie being bad at talking about their feelings. they're nothing if not consistent! 
> 
> (i may or may not have written this just to have an excuse to write a scene of archie and toffee okay bye happy reading)

Being in love with your best friend is inconvenient, Betty thinks.

It’s especially inconvenient when you happen to be sleeping together, and you’ve agreed that’s all it is. Friends with benefits, _best_ friends with benefits, no strings attached.

Betty can’t remember the exact moment she realized she’d fallen for him. Or fallen for him _again_ , she supposes. She wonders if maybe she’s never stopped loving him, and her feelings have only been tucked away for safekeeping during the years he was out of reach.

It’s easy to be in love with Archie. She thinks that’s the hardest part.

It’s easy to love him each time he finds her in the teachers’ lounge to ask how her day is going. It’s easy when she shows up at his house in the evening and he pulls her into his room, kissing her neck the way she likes.

It’s easy when he walks her home from Cheryl’s party, an arm around her waist to keep her steady. 

Betty’s cheeks are flushed, the alcohol running through her veins making her feel warm and tingly all over. She doesn’t guard her affection like she usually does, allowing herself to nuzzle her face into Archie’s shoulder and reach clumsily for his hand. In her wine-induced haze, she can pretend it means more than it does.

“Do you think I could stay with you t’night, Arch?” Betty mumbles as they reach the front of their houses.

He grins. “Probably a good idea, since I’m not confident in your ability to make it up your stairs.”

She swats his arm halfheartedly, still leaning on him. “Don’t be mean. I’m not _that_ drunk.” 

Archie is clearly holding in a laugh as he threads their fingers together, helping her up the porch steps. “Mhm.”

Betty’s more tired than she realizes, practically falling onto Archie’s bed once they reach his room. She groans when he nudges her leg, trying to pull back the blankets. 

“C’mon, Betty, you’re gonna get cold,” he says.

“Bossy,” she complains, managing to sit up for a second and kick her heels off.

Betty’s dimly aware that she still has a full face of makeup on, and she’s definitely wrinkling her silk shirt, but she can already feel her eyes growing heavy as Archie slides into bed next to her.

“Did you have fun tonight?” he asks, fingers twisting absently through a few strands of her hair. 

Betty hums in response. “Was fine, I guess. I didn’t mind spending time with Kevin.” She studies his face for a moment. “Did _you_ have fun? With Veronica?” Her heart skips a beat as soon as the words are out, pausing to see if it should sink or soar. 

Archie’s quiet for a moment. “It was okay. I missed you, though. I wish you’d picked my keys.”

A warm feeling spreads through Betty’s chest. “I’m here now, though, aren’t I?” she replies, her eyes falling shut.

“Yeah,” Archie says. She feels him lay down fully, slipping his arm around her waist. “You are.”

~

Sometimes Archie feels like Betty is his girlfriend.

He lets himself live in that fantasy occasionally, like when he wakes up the morning after Cheryl’s party to find his feet tangled with Betty’s and her arm thrown across his chest. When they go downstairs to make coffee, he lets himself imagine for a moment that this is their life all the time: lazy Sunday mornings, burnt toast, Betty with tangled hair.

He’s smiling at her across the kitchen island when the sound of a key at the front door brings him back to reality.

Betty’s eyes widen. “Is that-”

“Jughead. Yeah.”

“I should probably head home, then,” she says, standing up and coming around to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, though. For everything.”

He just nods, watching as she slips out quietly through the back door. Seconds later, Jughead stumbles into the kitchen, looking like he hasn’t slept a wink.

“Rough night, Jug?” Archie asks.

Jughead gives him a withering look, grabbing the cup of coffee that had been intended for Betty. “You could say that.” He walks over to the kitchen window and tugs the curtains closed. “Is it always this bright in here?”

Archie tries not to smile. “Did you sleep at Tabitha’s?”

Jughead nods absently, taking a sip of the coffee. “How was your night with _Ronnie_?”

“It was fine.”

“Just ‘fine’?” Jughead asks, raising his eyebrows. “I was expecting something a little better than that. I saw the way she was looking at you at the party. And you two weren't exactly known for being able to keep your hands off of each other when we were in high school.”

Archie feels his face flush, for an entirely different reason than what Jughead is probably going to think. “We aren’t in high school anymore, Jug. And she’s still married, technically. It isn’t like that.”

“What is it like, then?”

Archie glances at Jughead’s coffee mug, wishing it were Betty here holding it instead.

“It’s confusing,” he says, and it isn’t a lie.

~

The nightmares aren’t new, but Archie noticing is.

Betty jolts awake, disoriented as her heart pounds in her chest and her head whips around to look for signs of danger. She relaxes once her room comes into focus, but everything is still too dark. Every shadow taunts her, taking her back to that _place_.

She gets up and flicks her light on, pacing across her bedroom floor in an effort to calm down. Glancing over briefly at Archie’s house, she realizes his light is on, too.

Betty’s already reaching for her phone when the screen flashes with a text.

_Hey, I saw your light on. Is everything okay?_

She registers that the time on her phone reads 4:16 AM, and she wonders why _he’s_ awake. 

_Can’t sleep,_ she writes back. Biting her lip, she adds: _Want to talk?_

He replies right away. _Okay. Window?_

Betty wraps one of her blankets around herself and pulls back her curtains, revealing Archie standing across from her with a phone pressed to his ear.

“Hey,” he says once she picks up, smiling a little.

“Hey back.” Betty’s throat feels tight as she remembers all the times they did this as kids, whispering into the landline when it was way past their bedtimes. “It’s been a while since we talked like this.”

Archie laughs. “Yeah. Still nice, though.”

“So,” Betty says. “What’s got you awake at 4AM? Are you still on military time?”

There’s a teasing note in her voice, but she watches his expression harden. “I just have a lot on my mind, I guess,” he replies after a moment, and Betty’s not sure what that’s supposed to mean. Before she can ask anything further, he nods to her. “Everything good with you?”

“Yeah, just some bad dreams. I’m okay,” she tells him.

Betty knows she’s not okay, not really. She can’t close her eyes without seeing the image of the Trash Bag Killer looming above her, a constant reminder of a failure she can never hope to redeem herself from. There’s no reprieve, no escape, from the horrors she’s tried so desperately to forget.

Archie’s brow furrows. “What did you dream about?”

“It’s kind of hazy now,” Betty lies.

She knows she could tell Archie everything, and that he would listen. She doesn’t know or understand a lot of things about their relationship right now, but she’s sure he cares about her; that’s never been a question. 

The problem is that when she’s with him, things are fun. She doesn’t have to be FBI agent Betty Cooper. She doesn’t have to be the version of herself who lives alone with the cat she bought because of nightmares about being kidnapped by a serial killer. With Archie she can just be Betty, without any of the mistakes or baggage or regrets. 

“Do you want to grab breakfast at Pop’s later?” Betty asks him, changing the subject. “I’ve been craving pancakes.”

“That sounds perfect,” Archie says, and Betty feels a tug in her stomach as she takes in his smile through the window. 

She wants everything to be perfect for a little longer. 

~

Archie doesn’t like lying to Betty.

He supposes that he’s not really _lying_ , necessarily, only choosing not to share everything with her. 

When his nightmares return, Archie doesn’t want to be a burden. Betty is nearly done with her FBI training; she’s learning to solve cases and _help_ people. She’s smart and responsible, just like she’s always been. He doesn’t want to imagine what she’d think if she knew what he had really been through, knew the kind of things he’d done and seen. 

Sometimes he just wants to feel like he’s _good_ , even if it’s only in her eyes.

So he doesn’t tell her anything when they talk on the phone through their windows, or when they go to breakfast the next morning. Betty announces that she has to go back to Quantico for a few days, and Archie tries not to let his face fall.

“Try not to miss me too much,” she teases.

“I’ll be busy for the next little while, anyway,” he tells her. “I’ve got the fire department, RROTC planning, the renovations at Veronica’s….”  
He regrets mentioning Veronica immediately, but the words are already out. He watches Betty swallow a bite of her pancakes and wonders if he imagined the flicker of hurt in her eyes.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to distract you from all of that,” she replies.

Her smile looks forced, but Archie doesn’t call her on it. 

~

“Why is she looking at me like that?”

Archie stares at the ball of fur in Betty’s arms, and she laughs. He looks cute like this, she thinks, pretending to be suspicious of a ten pound animal. “Arch, this is Toffee. She’s friendly, I promise.”

“You know I’m more of a dog person,” he mumbles.

“Toffee’s a sweetheart. You’ll see,” Betty says. She places Toffee down on the floor, and the cat immediately runs toward the kitchen in search of her food bowl.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a cat?” he asks.

Betty shrugs. “Don’t know. I had a….friend watching her in Quantico, but I thought it’d be nice to have her here, since I’m staying awhile.” She decides not to mention Glen by name.

“I’ll be the judge of how ‘nice’ she is,” Archie says, still pretending to be serious.

Betty bumps his shoulder with hers. “Get over yourself.” She gestures toward the couch, beckoning him further inside. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?” The question is a formality, really. Betty doesn’t remember the last time they finished a movie.

“Won’t your mom be home soon?”

Betty shakes her head. “She’s visiting Toledo for a few days. A break from everything going on here, you know?”

Archie nods, sitting down beside her on the couch and immediately placing a hand on her thigh.

He complains as Betty selects a new Netflix romcom for them to watch, but she shuts him up with a kiss, abandoning the movie before they’re thirty seconds in. That’s a new record, she thinks.

As she stands up to gather her clothes after, she notices the bleary look in his eyes.

“Did I tire you out, Arch?” she asks playfully, poking his shoulder.

He actually yawns, grabbing at her hand lazily. “You could say that. I haven’t really been sleeping much, though, to be honest.”

Betty bites her lip. She’s noticed him looking tired a lot lately, but she doesn’t want to push. “Anything I can do?”

He shakes his head, reaching down to grab his shirt and pants. “No, I don’t think so. It’s not your problem.”

Betty wishes she could tell him that she wants to make it her problem, that she wants him to _talk_ to her, but instead she just leans down and kisses him. She’s pretty sure friends with benefits aren’t supposed to start deep conversations minutes after a hookup. “Okay. Well, I’m gonna make popcorn for whatever’s left of the movie. Try not to get too bored without me.”

“The kitchen is five steps away, Betty,” he says with a grin, and she sticks her tongue out at him.

Betty goes into the kitchen to make the popcorn, setting out two bowls and grabbing two sodas from the fridge to go along with it. She leans against the counter as she waits for it to pop, listening to the murmur of voices from the television.

“Okay, Arch, here-”

As Betty walks back over to the couch, her breath catches in her throat.

Archie is laying down with his eyes closed, one arm behind his head. The other is curled around Toffee, who has taken it upon herself to flop down in the center of his chest. 

Betty feels a lump in her throat, the scene in front of her so endearing she thinks she could cry. Then she feels foolish for getting choked up over Archie and her _cat_ , forcing herself to snap out of it and take a step into the living room.

“Arch?” she asks quietly. She leans over to look more closely and finds that he’s fallen asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly. Toffee is purring happily from her place there, nuzzling in closer to him.

Betty feels content looking at them, like this is _right._ Archie belongs in her house, on her couch, befriending her cat. 

She prepares herself for the sick feeling that always creeps into her stomach during moments like these, reinforcing the knowledge that none of this is permanent, but it never comes. Instead, Betty sits on the other end of the couch and watches Archie and Toffee sleep peacefully. She exhales and takes a sip of her soda as music swells from her television and the movie leads share a kiss. 

She’s gotten so used to feeling hurt by her love for Archie, she thinks, that she’s never realized loving him can feel good, too.

~

Archie hates when Betty’s sad.

He thinks it might just be the worst feeling in the world, actually, watching her eyes well up as she collapses into herself, her bottom lip quivering. Archie has seen her cry a lot throughout their lives. He’s seen her cry over things that seem inconsequential now, like a fall from her bike when they were little, or Cheryl insulting her favorite shirt when they were in middle school. He’s seen her cry over terrible, chilling things too, like being held at gunpoint while Archie looked up at her from a grave. He’s seen her cry as she watched her father die, then again at his own father’s funeral. 

None of those times have ever been quite like this, though.

When Betty wakes up screaming, it startles Archie awake too. He immediately reaches for her in the dark, finding her skin clammy.

“Betty? What’s wrong?” 

She doesn’t answer. Once his eyes adjust, Archie sees that her cheeks are stained with tears. A pit forms in his stomach as he feels her whole body shaking. 

“Hey,” he says, cupping her face gently. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m here.”

“It’s never been this bad before,” she murmurs. Her breathing is rapid; she’s almost hyperventilating. Tears are still spilling from her eyes, even as he watches her try to blink them away.

“You’re safe, Betty. I’ve got you,” Archie tells her, wrapping her in his arms and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I promise.”

Betty’s quiet for a moment, and then she lets out a sob. She really cries then, pressing her face into Archie’s chest as he holds her and rubs her back slowly.

Archie feels like there’s a fist clenched around his heart, squeezing it so tight it threatens to burst. He wants to understand, wants to make it better.

When her sobs have quieted to soft sniffles, she pulls back to look at him. “I’m sorry, Arch,” she says, her voice raw. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Archie shakes his head. “You don’t need to apologize.” He reaches between them to grip her hand in his. “Do you...want to talk about it?”

He’s sure she’s going to say no. She doesn’t usually want to talk about things, which is fine, really. He knows it should be frustrating, logically, but he doesn’t think anything about Betty could ever truly bother him.

She bites her lip, hesitating for a moment. 

“Yes,” she says finally. “Can we...can we go make tea, maybe?”

Archie nods, slipping out of bed and offering Betty his fluffy robe.

He’s grateful that Jughead’s working the night shift as they go downstairs, Betty settling in at the kitchen island while Archie plugs the tea kettle in. He watches her take a slow sip once the steaming mug is in her hands, exhaling. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this for me,” she says.

“Of course. Anything, Betty, always.” 

She swallows, pausing for a moment. “I’m sorry, Arch, I haven’t been honest with you. Not- not completely.” He raises his eyebrows, but he waits patiently for her to continue. “I...have nightmares. About something that happened to me.”

Archie’s heart breaks for her again, even before she explains. He _knows_ what that’s like, he wants to tell her.

“You all think I’m this great FBI agent,” she continues, “I can tell everyone in town thinks I’ll be able to swoop in and find all of these missing girls, that I’ll be able to solve my sister’s disappearance. No one realizes that I failed, before. I’m a failure.”

“Betty…”

She sniffles again, wiping under her eyes quickly. “There was a girl. She’d been kidnapped by this serial killer called the...the Trash Bag Killer. I was so sure I’d be able to help her, so I didn’t wait for backup, and then I-” She breaks off as her voice rises in pitch a little, the words strained.

Archie reaches across the table between them to cover her hand with his. “It’s okay. Take your time.”

She nods, taking a deep breath. “The girl- she was already dead by the time I got there. It was so dark, and I wasn’t thinking clearly so- so I let myself get captured. By TBK.”

Archie’s blood runs cold. “How long?”

Betty shudders. “Two weeks.”

His vision goes red, forcing him to grip onto the kitchen counter to keep himself steady. He pictures her alone and terrified, unable to keep the image from creeping into his brain. He doesn't want her to have to bear this alone for a second longer. 

Archie crosses the kitchen floor in two quick strides, wrapping his arms around her. 

She leans on him right away, tucking her head under his chin. He presses a soft kiss into her hair. “I’m sorry that happened, Betty. It’s fucked up. Really, really fucked up.”

There’s no humor in the laugh she lets out. “Yeah. You could say that,” she says.

Archie considers his words for a moment, one hand rubbing her back. “You’re not a failure, though, Betty. You’re really brave.”

“M’not brave, Arch,” she insists. “I couldn’t save that girl, and then I almost got myself killed because of my own stupidity.”

“You were only trying to help. And you made it out; that’s what matters.” He breaks their embrace so he can look at her, one of his hands reaching out to cup her cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear before it can fall. “I know what it’s like to feel like you messed up, like it was all for nothing. Believe me.”

She looks at him with her wide gaze, a question in her eyes. “You can talk to me too, Arch, you know,” she says quietly. “If you want.”

Archie lets out a long breath. “I have them too. Nightmares.” He watches her eyebrows raise, and he continues. “I don’t sleep sometimes because of it. I close my eyes and all I see are the mistakes I made and the people I couldn’t save because of them.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Betty asks. She reaches for his hand, giving it a squeeze.

“I thought no one else would understand,” he replies truthfully.

A beat passes, and then Betty wraps her arms around him again. She doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need her to. Just by saying the words out loud, Archie feels like the weight on his shoulders has shifted, if only a little, to become something they share. He hopes she feels it, too. 

Betty clears her throat, pulling away and pushing his shoulder lightly. “Drink your tea, Arch, it’s gonna get cold.” She picks up her own mug purposefully.

Archie doesn’t really like the taste of it, this sweet, fruity kind he always makes for her, but he steps back to grab his mug anyway. He knows she just wants to sit with him awhile longer, enjoying the comfortable silence.

As he looks at Betty, ensconced in his bathrobe with red-rimmed eyes and slouched shoulders, he gets that feeling in his chest that he sometimes does when he’s around her. 

It’s a sense of safety. Not in a deliberate or planned way, but in a way that can only come from a shared history and the simple act of knowing and being known by her. It’s a need to comfort her as a friend, with a steady hand and an encouraging smile, but also the desire to kiss away her tears when she’s upset, and just to kiss her, period.

Archie supposes the feeling is always there, in some capacity at least, flaring up when there are no distractions or reasons to make excuses. The explanation seems obvious, a fundamental fact.

He’s in love with her, he thinks. He might have been in love with her his whole life. 

~

Betty doesn’t notice at first when the nightmares start to get better.

She sleeps over at Archie’s as much as she can, practically memorizing Jughead’s work schedule for this sole purpose, or she sneaks him into her own bedroom after her mother is asleep. She feels like she’s a teenager again, having to sneak around like this, but having Archie is worth it.

A week passes of her sleeping through the whole night before she realizes.

Betty wakes up in Archie’s bed on a Saturday morning, one of his arms thrown across her body. She feels calm like this, truly well rested for the first time in ages.

“Arch?” she murmurs. 

He yawns, squinting against the sun streaming into his room. “What time is it?” he asks groggily. 

Betty leans over to check his bedside clock. “Almost noon."

Archie groans. “I was supposed to be at the Pembrooke half an hour ago.”

“You can paint anytime, Arch, I don’t think V will care.” Betty runs her fingers through his hair, hand coming to rest on his cheek. “You deserve to sleep in sometimes, considering you have about four different jobs by now.” 

He laughs. “Can’t argue with that.”

Betty pauses for a moment, catching his hand with hers to lace their fingers together. “I’ve been sleeping better, you know,” she muses. “They haven’t happened in a while. The dreams.”

“Not for me, either. Guess sleeping together is good luck,” he replies. She makes a face at him, and he smirks. “I didn’t mean it like _that._ Not that I have a problem with that part of this arrangement-”

Betty kisses him, feeling him smile against her lips. She wants to say it, then. Wants to tell him that they should make this a permanent thing, more permanent than now. It already feels like this is more than just friendship, most of the time, especially during moments like these when she wakes up in his arms and he pulls her closer to him-

Archie’s phone rings, cutting the moment short.

“Ronnie?” he says, sitting up. “Yeah, I’m sorry, I just....lost track of time.” 

Betty tries not to notice that he doesn’t look at her as he gets out of bed and starts opening drawers, putting clothes on. He still has the phone to his ear. “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he tells her. “Okay. I’m excited to see you too.”

Betty watches him hang up the phone and put on one of his soft flannels, the shirt’s pattern marked by splotches of paint. She wants to tell him how much she likes it on him, like she usually would, but the words stick in her throat.

“I’ve got to run, Betty, I’m sorry,” Archie says. “Feel free to make coffee downstairs, if you want.”

She nods, swallowing. “See you tonight?” she can’t stop from asking. 

“Of course.”

His smile eases the dread in her stomach, even as the ache in her chest grows.

~

Archie wants to tell Betty how he feels. 

He wants to, he knows he should, but he also knows that things ended terribly the last time he’d tried to tell her he had feelings for her. He still thinks about it sometimes, the way she’d looked as her eyes welled up while he strummed his guitar. The sting of rejection shouldn’t still hurt seven years later, and he figures maybe it wouldn’t if it were anyone but Betty who’d looked at him like that.

“Why don’t you just tell her?” Veronica asks. “Plan a nice night, take her to Pop’s or something, and _tell her_.” 

Archie sighs, pushing his paint roller across the wall. “It’s not that easy. I can’t tell what she’s thinking, if she feels the same way.”

Veronica rolls her eyes. “Answer me this: why _wouldn’t_ she feel the same way?”

He shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know. It’s just- it’s _Betty._ ”

“Oh, Archie,” Veronica sighs. “That’s exactly my point.”

~

When Jughead asks Betty for help with his investigation, she can’t think of a reason to say no.

She tries, for a moment, to think of an excuse as she looks at the text on her phone that reads: _Can we meet at Pop’s soon? Could really use your help with some things._

It’s curt, impersonal, like all their interactions have been lately. She decides it’s not a big deal. They can meet up as friends, as coworkers, just like old times. She tells herself it might be fun, even. A distraction from everything else that’s been going on.

A distraction from _Archie_ , who’s spending more and more time with Veronica.

~

“Do you want to go grab food at Pop’s?” Veronica asks.

Archie slides the lid onto the last paint can, stepping back to admire his work. The renovations are finally starting to come together after a few weeks, the entire apartment now painted a fresh shade of cream.

“Sure,” he replies. “I could eat.”

They decide to walk, Veronica voicing her excitement for a chocolate milkshake and lamenting the fact that Chad had never wanted diner food.

“Have you talked to him lately?” Archie asks.

“Not since Cheryl’s party.” She exhales, shaking her head. “God, I can’t believe I never saw how much of a dick he was before I married him. Those divorce papers could not be signed soon enough.” 

“It’s not your fault, Ronnie. I know you’ll find someone great, after all this,” he tells her, and means it. 

He holds the door when they reach the diner, stepping inside behind her. When he looks toward their usual booth, he does a double take. 

Betty is sitting there, with Jughead. She has a vanilla milkshake in front of her, the straw caught between her lips as she smiles at something he’s saying. Archie watches her tip her head back with laughter, and he can tell from the way his shoulders shake that Jughead is laughing too. 

“Hey, there’s Betty and Jughead,” Veronica says. “We should join them.”

He feels like his feet are glued to the ground, only taking a step forward when Veronica tugs on his arm. 

He guesses he probably should’ve known this was going to happen, sooner or later. It’s never taken something life-altering to bring Betty and Jughead back together; the simple fact of being in Riverdale, a town with endless mysteries to solve, is enough.

Archie sees Betty spot him as he and Veronica walk towards the booth. She glances away quickly, an expression crossing her face that looks vaguely like guilt. 

“Mind if we join you guys?” Veronica asks in a friendly tone. Archie watches Betty and Jughead exchange a look, like he’s seen them do a hundred times before. The kind of look reserved for just between them.

“Of course,” Jughead replies after a moment, sliding over so Archie can sit beside him.

Archie tries to pay attention to the conversation, but it’s hard to pay attention to much of anything when Betty won’t meet his eyes.

He feels like he’s been transported back seven years, to the four of them in this same booth with the same amount of unspoken words between them.

~ 

Betty had known she was surviving on borrowed time, but it still hurts to have it confirmed. 

As she watches Archie hold the door for Veronica, smiling as they walk into the diner together, it feels like a knife being taken to her heart. The knife twists further when she sees Veronica tug on Archie’s arm, the gesture casual and domestic. 

Betty laughs at whatever Jughead just said, throwing her head back like she heard every word of it. When Veronica and Archie walk over, she tries not to let her shoulders sag. She avoids Archie’s eyes, stirring what remains of her milkshake instead.

They join them in their booth, and Veronica says: “It’s nice to see you, Betty. You need to come over soon, we haven’t gotten to catch up for real yet.”

“Yeah, for sure. It’s nice to see you too, V,” Betty lies, the words tasting sour on her tongue.

~

Betty still shows up at Archie’s house, but it isn’t the same. 

He opens his front door when he hears her knock, expecting her to greet him with her usual soft smile and rosy cheeks. Instead, her expression is intense, and he doesn’t get a word in before her hands are on his face, pulling his mouth down to hers. 

She doesn’t want to talk, and he tells himself he’s okay with that.

~

As Betty stares up at Archie’s ceiling, she knows something has changed.

Gone is the easy rapport between them, the comfortable silence she used to crave. Even as she falls asleep with his breath at her back and his arm around her waist, Betty can’t shake the feeling of dread.

They’re back to square one, she thinks. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! feel free to leave a comment or kudos <3


End file.
